


As It Should Be

by LadyKrystine



Series: As It Should Be [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26417617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKrystine/pseuds/LadyKrystine
Summary: A year had passed since the four friends defeated Ardyn and brought the light back to Eos. The cost was small, just two lives, compared to the innumerable lives lost to the daemons. Ignis, despite all odds, has a lead on how to return their dearly departed King Noctis to the land of the living. Through a path of long-forgotten secrets, love and heartache, and learning to cope in a post-Scourge world, four friends and allies learn how to survive.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Aranea Highwind
Series: As It Should Be [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920856
Kudos: 2





	1. "That's It!"

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in the Post-Canon and is, for all intents and purposes, canon-compliant in terms of events that happened in the game. Written pre-Dawn of the Future, and will not be edited to account for it.
> 
> Tags placed on this fic may contain some spoilers for general plot elements. As chapters are released, new tags will be added. The original transcript of this is a massive roleplay done by my sister and myself. I kept a running archive of it during the course of the fic, and it is currently being edited for flow and consistency by my sister. Posted here with her permission and blessing.
> 
> Initial Cast:  
> Prompto, Ignis, and Iris played by me. Gladio, Noctis, and Aranea played by my sister.
> 
> I'll stop boring you with all the preface. Sit down, strap in, and enjoy the first of many chapters of...
> 
> As It Should Be.

A year had passed since the four friends defeated Ardyn and brought the light back to Eos. The cost was small, just two lives, compared to the innumerable lives lost to the daemons.

Fading evening light filtered through the tall windows of the Citadel office that Ignis had claimed as his. The comfort was there; the sun might set, but it would rise again in the morning. For the most part, the gods had kept their promises, even if it had been a bitter victory.

Ignis was pouring over his research while Prompto kept him company, only halfheartedly invested in whatever it was he was doing. Neither of them spoke, too concentrated on their own tasks, until...

“I’ve got it!” Ignis exclaimed, looking up from the pile of papers he had been staring at. In his haste, he knocked another stack over as he swung his hand through the air. “Drat.”

The curse was muttered under his breath.

He still found the lack of spatial awareness a constant burden. True that Ignis couldn’t see in the same sense as his closest companions, making reading tedious, but he managed through the help of clever technology and a little bit of blind luck. Even on the worst days, he wasn’t knocking over more than some papers… and fortunately the ones now tumbling to the office floors weren’t even the ones he needed.

Prompto glanced over. The younger of the two had been lounging on the couch against the wall with the biggest window, basking in the sun. In his hands was his camera, and he’d taken a few ‘action shots’ of poor Ignis as he tried to make sense of what the other was working on.

“Eh, what’s it, Iggy?” he asked, dropping his legs to the floor and sitting up.

Ignis turned toward the voice. “I think I found a solution… Go find Gladio and please be quick about it.”

Wasting no time, Prompto tossed his camera on the couch and scampered off. He had a rather good idea of where he’d find the Marshal, and that was in one of the many training halls for new Crownsguards.

Regardless of where Gladio ended up being, Ignis picked up the papers he had knocked over earlier and went back to his work. Some moments passed and soon enough he could hear his friends’ footfalls hurrying down the hallway. One set lighter and off-kilter and the other more focused. Heavier, perhaps tired. Ignis looked up just as the door opened with a creak, its hinges being only one of the many things in need for care after years of enemy occupation.

Gladio was the first to step into the study where Ignis hoarded his library of occult knowledge. 

“You got something, Iggy?” The King’s Shield even sounded tired.

There were a myriad of problems to fix all over the kingdom, and even if Gladio liked challenges, losing Noctis had taken a toll on all of them. Now, Gladio was putting his remaining energy into rebuilding. Parts of the underground were still flooded and there was rubble to clear out in various neighborhoods. Then, consider all the issues they had in Insomnia in the larger context of Lucis, and the Crownsguards were busy indeed.

Ignis simply gestured for the two of them to come over to where he’d straightened out the papers. The writings were blurry for him and far too large for normal vision. Still, he tapped on one page on which he’d made his own notes in the margins. His notes were too small for anyone with normal vision, but it didn’t bother Ignis. He knew what he wrote, so why’d it matter if he could read his own words.

“Here. An interesting tidbit. Counter to the Six, there are lesser beings that once lent their power to those they deemed worthy. Not necessarily to those of royal blood, but strong enough. Demigods, in a way”—Ignis shifted some papers around until he pointed to another one with his neat, barely legible writing—”Twelve gods and twice as many messengers. I believe we are already familiar with two such messengers.”

Prompto scratched the back of his head as he tried making sense of the notes, his confusion almost tangible. The writing might as well have been in a foreign language as far as he was concerned, but this was the reason why he shot things–pictures, guns, so on and so forth–instead of being one for heavy thinking.

“Messengers, huh? Kinda like Umbra and Tiny…” Then, a light bulb moment for the poor blond. “Oh! Exactly like Pryna and Umbra… Man, I always wondered how Umbra got around so quickly, delivering that notebook Luna and Noct–” 

His voice trailed off as memories of their lost friend hit him in a rush.

Ignis rested a hand on Prompto’s shoulder and nodded. “Precisely. I believe these other gods may hold the key to the mystery that has evaded me these past eight months.”

During those months, Ignis’ desk had been covered in numerous books and frail documents. Legends, hearsay, and testimonies of old miracles. Forgotten religious texts. Many of them had been left behind by royal archivists, but others had been more recently donated to them by friends wanting to help. Gladio reckoned that no one had ever poured as much time into deciphering them as Ignis had. Iggy, even with his limited vision, must have read each of them at least once.

“So what if there are more,” Gladio replied, his voice laced with some disbelief. He barely glanced at the scribbles, preferring to fix his attention on the person who knew them the best. “You want us to find one and ask for a favor? You think it’ll be that easy after what they did to Noct?”

He didn’t look impressed. It seemed unlikely to Gladio that the gods would help them out since Noctis’ death had been by their design. The three of them had even tried going down this route before, but they hadn’t heard a peep from either Gentiana or even Umbra. If the two most sympathetic to their plight refused to answer, then who would. They had little to vie for a god’s favor; it had been Luna who’d brokered for Noctis and, with both of them gone, the gods had fallen silent.

Ignis adjusted his glasses and sighed. “No, I don’t think it will be that easy. I also hold little hope that it will work as intended. But is it not worth pursuing in hopes that something will come from it? Do we not owe it to Noct to try?”

“Well yeah,” said Prompto, his gaze darting between the two. “But you know all this stuff. You can find more than we could… and sure, Gladio’s strong, but what if we get into more fights? There’s stuff out there still!”

Ignis sighed again and looked at Prompto, his eyes unusually sad. “Then we acquire reinforcements. Is it not how we survived ten years without him? I believe in your capabilities to find suitable additions to our ranks, were it needed. I can look into this more, see if there are any traces in the historical texts…”

“Is that all you got?” asked Gladio. “We don’t know what they want in return, and Noct sure didn’t die so you two idiots could end up the same way.”

“Hey! Iggy’s not an idiot!” Prompto exclaimed, jumping to Mama Iggy’s defense. He conveniently didn’t bother justifying that he wasn’t an idiot either; comparatively, Prompto liked to think himself camera-smart, which was vastly more important than sword-smart, in his humble opinion.

“That’s enough,” Ignis said halfheartedly, as he was already busy looking through his notes. “This is not ‘all I got’, as you put it, Gladio. There is more that I have pieced together. Some starting places. But I had hoped to buy myself more time to format it in an easier-to-digest manner.”

“Aw, Iggy, anything you make is easy to digest! I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” Prompto commented, having missed some crucial part of the conversation.

Gladio just rolled his eyes. “Lemme know when you got something concrete. I’m gonna be outside sorting out the mess the city’s become, so something at least got done.”

To make a point, he gave the papers one last glance before turning around to proceed to walk out of the study. He knew the others would keep on keeping on; Ignis was dead-set on this and Prompto didn’t have the heart not to indulge, but it didn’t fix anything to have Ignis or Prompto throwing their life away in a shady deal with the gods. Except maybe give Noctis some company, suppose.

But just before Gladio could leave, Ignis moved around the table and grabbed his arm. Prompto only stood there, visibly hurt that Gladio was so… so… mean to Ignis, who was the only one doing anything about trying to get their best friend back. No, his best friend. Prompto owed so much to Noctis, but he wasn’t the one who could solve much of anything. Not like Ignis could.

“Gladio,” Ignis said, resigned. “I do have something more concrete, but I assumed you wouldn’t be interested in the details. Perhaps I was wrong. Noct’s absence has changed all three of us, and sometimes I wonder if the change has indeed been for the worst.”

Ignis let go of Gladio’s arm and went back to his spot at the desk. He shuffled a few papers around before holding one out as an offering. Detailed on the paper was a map of one of the many ancient tombs that the quartet had investigated while getting Noct access to his ancestors’ weapons, and circled in red was a door that, at the time, they couldn’t open. Notes were scrawled in the margins in Ignis’ careful handwriting: ‘She may rest here still. Open the door. But how?’

Gladio took one apprehensive look at the map, skimming it over partly because having been turned around had made him see the crushed looks on his friends’ faces.

“Yeah, I remember that door. It had some runes or whatever on it. We still have a pic of it?” Gladio asked, gaze sliding over from Ignis to Prompto.

A wild goose chase or not, it stood to reason that somewhere in the kingdom had to be a way either to open the doors or translate the glyphs on them. After all, the tombs were built by the Lucian kings.

Prompto thought for a moment before flopping back on his preferred spot of that faded couch in a beam of sunlight. “I might have a picture back in my room, kept from the good old days. I’d have to look… or we can just go snap another one! Haven’t had a photo shoot in a while, and you, Big Guy, would be the best subject!”

Ignis smiled wryly, amused by their youngest friend’s perpetual enthusiasm. Their 30s still hadn’t hit the smaller blond quite yet, and it was something Ignis hoped he would always hold onto.

“Yeah, calm down,” Gladio said without much enthusiasm before looking back to Ignis. “Iggy… What about Cor? He might know something.”

Ignis placed his fingertips to his temple, finding that moment of clarity. “Indeed. He may know where the key is. Do you think he would be willing to assist in the expedition? Or if not, I could think of someone who might be able, were she coming back around.”

“You mean Aranea?” ” Gladio asked again, mostly so that he could veto any other suggestions. Iris didn’t really need to be pulled into this. “Shouldn’t Prompto have her number, or wasn't ten years not enough for that?”

Her name managed to capture Prompto’s complete and undivided attention. His cheeks flushed and he jumped to his feet.

“H-hey! I could have totally gotten a date with her or… or something! I could’ve! Man…” The younger blond whined, hanging his head. “Yeah, I have her number. Surprise, surprise. Mister Unlucky-in-Love managed to get his Lady Love’s number…”

Ignis was used to the whining by now and primarily ignored it. Instead he again busied himself with searching the papers for a different map that he had drawn over. Not wanting to miss a rare opportunity to make a clever dig, though, he spoke without ever raising his eyes. “And you have managed to call that number exactly… never?”

Prompto put both hands to his head and whined again, fussing in protest. “I did, once!”

“And you hung up before she even answered,” Ignis pointed out.

“Yeah, but I called her! And that’s the point!”

Gladio shook his head. “Cut him some slack, Iggy. He got at least one girl’s number, once… or did you ask her for it or did Aranea handle that, too?”

“N-no… I asked her for it. I really did! You gotta believe me!” Prompto said, looking up. He was red enough to make tomatoes jealous by this point. He was just remembering now how it had taken him another wasted year chasing after their go-to mechanic only to realize there was no chemistry there: she would’ve been happier if he was a car-man hybrid taking her out instead of the recently-dead king’s best friend and top-notch photog.

“Call her,” Gladio said. “And after you’re done apologizing for taking so long, ask her to come over and help us check out the tomb.”

The older two seemed rather adamant about this, so with his metaphoric tail tucked between his legs, Prompto went out to the hall. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, went to the contact entry, and gave a loud groan of frustration before hitting the call button. Waiting for her to pick up, he tapped his foot anxiously as the phone rang. Of course Gladio and Ignis couldn’t know if it had actually been ten years, and Prompto would never tell. 

Back in his office, Ignis chuckled.

“It seems our little boy is growing up,” he said, finally looking at Gladio again. As much as the older boys liked teasing Prompto, the younger blond must have done something to impress the dragoon to gain her number in the first place.

The taller man returned some of the smile, tiredly humored. “About time.”

At least they were for once in agreement.

“Here. Another map that is not marked up... A guide—I do not know if it is wise for me to go with you on this reconnaissance mission,” Ignis said, handing the map to Gladio. “Get some pictures, find the door and the key. I could stay here and see if I can piece together anything else about the missing Terrestrial goddess that might be of use.”

Unspoken, yet so heavily implied was Ignis’ hidden desire and need to hear Gladio say that they wouldn’t leave him behind, that the still vision impaired man would not be a hindrance. Gladio hesitated, sensing that the decision now somehow fell to him in Noctis’ absence.

“We’ll know when Aranea gets here. If. Then you can make your own decisions if you wanna come with us, Iggy.”

“It depends on how convincing Prompto can be, whether or not she decides to lend us her aid once more,” Ignis replied. He couldn't think of anything else in the papers that would be of any use.

As if right on cue, a dejected and defeated Prompto wandered back in and fell face-first on the couch. He muttered something, and his phone fell from his hand onto the floor.

“Speak up, will you?” Ignis scolded.

Prompto turned his head to the side and repeated: “She didn’t answer.”

“You left her a message, right, so she knows you didn’t butt-call her?” Gladio asked, all casual interest. He leaned to pick the phone up and tossed it back, aiming at Prompto’s chest. “Text her. Noct’s more important than waiting to see if she bothers to call you back.”

“You do it! I can’t!” Prompto protested, fumbling for the phone. Then, he thought about it and sighed. “Fine…”

While Prompto agonized over the text message–a short, sweet ‘It’s Prompto. I totally meant to call you this time. Call me back?’–Ignis came around to the front of the desk and leaned back against it.

“Gladio, while our lovelorn child awaits a message from his fair lady, will you check the places on the second map? The backside of the unmarked map has a couple of places within the palace that might prove beneficial either in supplies or in this elusive key.”

Gladio agreed, though not without shooting one last glance over his shoulder at Prompto who seemed to be staring at his phone as if willing it to either ring or explore and end his misery. “You need something else before I go, Iggy?”

“Bring me back an Ebony?” Ignis said, feeling that desperate need for his biggest vice during their initial journey: canned coffee.

Prompto gave out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh. He let his arm drop, holding onto the phone for dear life. “Maybe I should help?” the younger blond suggested, directing his question to Gladio.

“No, sit here and watch the phone,” the other replied as he already went past him. Even if Aranea wasn’t a critical part of the mission, neither of the older two wanted to land in a situation where Prompto missed her call and then took the next ten years to whine until he’d have the courage to try again.

✫✬✭

Minutes went by with Prompto nervously waiting for her call… if there was to be such a thing. It was starting to look hopeless, with Prompto falling more and more off the couch with each passing minute–until the familiar melody of Chocobo Theme cut through the air. 

‘Aranea’, said the caller ID, aggressively.

Prompto yelped, scrambling to answer the phone. Ignis took this opportunity to slip out before Prompto could protest. He knew too well that Prompto might try to delegate the call to him, and he wanted to give the younger one a chance to show that the other did have some competence in talking with a woman.

Prompto nervously held the phone to his ear.

“So, you wanted to talk?” asked a familiar, feminine drawl. No hi, no hello, and that making it difficult to discern if Aranea was amused or not. At least she must be something for her to call him back. “I was starting to think you lost my number or were just too scared to call me.”  
After everything they had gone through, too, in the frozen wastes.

“Oh, heyy Aranea!” Prompto said, shaking. He could only hope it didn’t come through in his voice; he’d never hear the end of it from the guys if he got so nervous his voice quivered. “Whaa–? Me? Too scared to call? Nah…”

His bravado quickly faded, heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the thump-thump even in his ears. Quiver or no, how Aranea pictured it was that he might very well drop the phone if there was any kind of a loud noise. 

Then Prompto got serious, remembering what was at stake. This wasn’t like his failed attempts of chatting her up in the few social gatherings they ever had. Not even like that fateful encounter in the snow. “Yeah, so. Ignis thinks he found a way to, uh… fix some things. We need your help.”

“You made me wait a year and then it’s because you need help?” Aranea replied, not sounding particularly impressed or even surprised, but it was just her voice. Something was going on in the background that even Prompto could hear, with men yelping and a giant beast growling. She took a moment to turn to her crew and give them short instructions, her hand muffling the phone so she wouldn’t just break his ear. He must have called her while she was still on the clock.

“I… I’m sorry, Aranea,” was about all he could muster at first as he listened to her muffled voice barking orders. Her assessment might be spot on. With how nervous he was, even the slightest cough might send him skittering away to hide in a massive blanket nest. “Lemme make it up to you, after all of this!”

His words came out as soon as he had a moment to speak. He heard the question, and he knew the answer, but there was a nagging voice that sounded like some strange lovechild of Gladio and Noct telling him to man up. Their mission wouldn’t be ruined by him taking a minute to play true to his hopeless romantic title.

“Okay? Lemme make it up to you. M-maybe… t-t-take you out one night…” He shook his head. “I mean, as thanks! Not, like, anything else. Y’know.”

He could’ve sworn he heard the faintest chuckle coming from the other side of the now-closed door, Ignis assuredly listening in as his little boy grew up and manned up.

“Look,” Aranea said. “You boys helped me realize I had to leave the Empire and, if not for that, I probably would’ve been turned into a daemon like the rest.”

Footsteps echoed off the metal as she followed her crew and climbed into her dropship now that the beast was tied up in its hold.

“I’ll help you boys out. The question is how?”

“We, uh… we need to go check out this old tomb. Normally, there’d be four of us, but, well, Noct isn’t here anymore. And Iggy might not be going with us. I’m a good shot… even better now! And Gladio is Gladio. But we could use your”—Again, the voice prompted him to throw a touch of flattery her way—”magnificence and grace on the battlefield, oh Goddess of the Skies.”  
Aranea gave a soft huff.

“Oh, you can forget about the sweet talk. This girl isn’t that easy to impress with some sugary words,” she said, all no-nonsense, before she barked at her crew to ‘Move out, boys!’ and the giant ship turned toward its next destination. They had some cargo to drop off at Meldacio and a couple of supplies to buy if she intended to fly all the way to Insomnia overnight. Her small fleet of airships were maybe the very last ones still functioning after the Long Night–most Niff tech had been lost to the war and the lack of care.

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning to chaperon you boys. You can explain it to me then why you are still looking for old tombs–you can’t use the royal arms without your king, can you?” This was all just small talk, though. She paused, putting emphasis on what she said next. “But after that, I hold you to your promise. You’ll have two hours to impress me.”

Internally, Prompto scream-sang the victory song and did laps around the office, making a general fool of himself. Externally, the poor boy grinned ear-to-ear.

He did it! He convinced the Goddess of the Skies–no, Aranea. He learned from his mistakes of deifying someone he had a romantic interest in. He wouldn’t do it again, unless he planned on teasing her. But he didn’t dare to do that. He… well, he was a little scared of her. ‘But in a good way!’ he’d insist when pressed.

“Yes, good! Tomorrow morning! I’ll get Iggy to write his report so I won’t forget anything important”—A thought came to him, a brief flash of daring—“Then after, it’s a date.”

“Well, now it is a date? Weren’t you just saying that it would only be as thanks for helping you boys out?”

Aranea stayed serious for another second or two. He stammered and sputtered in the few seconds she let him flounder. “I–uh–I mean–”

Then, she chuckled. And he lightened, some invisible weight lifted. Hey, at least she wasn’t saying ‘no’ outright.

“And Blondie? You can’t always rely on your friends,” she said, with a hint of a smile in her voice. “The one with the glasses might be crafty, but he too will run out of crises if you ever want to ask someone out, all officially and not as a thanks.”

Deciding to leave that to simmer, Aranea said her goodbyes with promises of being there at 9 o’clock sharp. As boring as the flight was, she wouldn’t want her men thinking she had developed feelings for a guy who had so far mostly pocket-called her. Why over-complicate it?

“I–whaa–?” Prompto asked, as if the thought of him being put up to this was so off the wall he never would have considered it. But if he were honest, he would have to admit that it was likely the only reason he would have ever gotten the nerve up. Still, he said his goodbyes. As soon as the phone was back in his pocket, he cried out a very loud, very impassioned ‘YES!’.

✫✬✭

Gladio had just made it back to where Ignis hovered by the door, and only heard the god-awful shriek. Something was explained just by the looks the older two exchanged, and he said nothing about Ignis listening in. 

“All the camping crap’s ready to go, and I talked with Cor. He’s busy, but he’s gonna check with you later,” he told Ignis before calling out through the door. “Prompto! You talk to Aranea or you just playing on your phone?”

“I’ll have you know, Gladio, that not only did I secure us a fourth for our little excursion, I got myself a date once it’s all said and done!”

Finally the guy had managed to get a date with someone who didn’t want him to haul car parts from another city while at it. Prompto was grinning like a fool when the other two came in. Ignis first, and then Gladio who had remembered the much sought after cup of Ebony. 

“Wonderful! When should we expect the fair lady?” Ignis asked, wasting no time in heading over to his desk. Once there, he started packing up the most important of the documents into a side bag. It seemed that with Cor’s inability to join them, he would take up his mantle as their tactician once more.

“Uhh… Nine. In the morning. Noct’s gonna hate–” Prompto paused, then sighed. When he spoke, his tone was notably sad. “I was gonna say he would hate being up that early…”

Gladio gave Prompto a supportive pat as he went past, so far acting as a rather overcomplicated coffee cup holder.

“Yeah, be ready then,” he said. “So, what was this about you getting a date with Aranea?”

Prompto flashed his big-brother-slash-dad friend a big grin, grateful for the deflection in the subject he unintentionally brought up.

“Y-yeah, I told her I wanted to, uh… to take her out, as thanks for helping us. Then when she agreed–Gladio, she agreed!–I just said ’it’s a date’ and she, like, didn’t tell me no… and teased me about it!” The shorter man glanced over to Ignis before continuing. “She told me I gotta quit hoping that Iggy’ll find some kinda disaster or that you’ll put me up to calling a girl if I ever want to get a date. That eventually we’ll run out of crises or something for me to use as an excuse.”

Ignis nodded his agreement, content with the documents he selected. “She does have a point, you know.”

While he could always find some errand for Prompto, Ignis hoped that perhaps the younger blond would learn how to handle things on his own. If all went as planned, they would be in Noct’s service once again, and everyone knows a king’s work is never done. Still, it would be nice for at least one of the four to find some semblance of a romantic happy ending… so why not the poor soul that struck out every chance he took?

“So, what’re you planning to do for your date?” Gladio asked, a little humorously. Aranea was a tough customer, and Prompto had never expected to land a date to begin with, so teasing came naturally with the territory. 

Prompto stared at Gladio.

“Wait, I have to plan for the date? I can’t be just like ’hey, let’s go to this place to eat’?” he groaned and tossed his head back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “Why is this so hard? I’m so stupid! I can’t do that with a girl… no, woman… like Aranea!”

“If you can’t pick a restaurant, we’ve Cup Noodles left.”

“You’re no help! You can’t win anyone’s heart unless it’s the very personification of Cup Noodles! You… you… noodle-sexual!” Prompto punctuated his vague insult by sticking his tongue out.

Ignis sighed as he walked past the two of them, only pausing at the door as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Are you two quite done? I thought we might enjoy a little dinner before calling it a night early.”

“Cup Noodles are delicious and you know it,” Gladio said, rolling his eyes at the lack of love shown toward his chosen guilty pleasure snack, and followed Ignis out of the study.

Prompto trotted after them, feeling relief at how natural things felt. Sure, they were down a person and ten years older, but there were natural rhythms to their friendship. He claimed his spot between the two of them and looked up to Ignis. “Soo, what’s on the menu tonight?”

Ignis thought for a moment, then gave a wry smile. “I was thinking… Cup Noodles.”

“Aww, you can’t be serious!” Prompto whined.

There was no answer, but Ignis gave a sly wink to Gladio, asking the other to play along.

“What do you have against Cup Noodles?” Gladio argued back, catching the wink. “They’re fast and easy, and it’ll let Iggy take a break. ’Sides, you know what we bought last week?”

He barely paused. 

“Extra Spicy Hundlegs Cup.”

Prompto went through his entire repertoire of frustrated noises before glaring at Gladio. “Shut up! That’s terrible! I’d rather starve!”

“That can be arranged,” Ignis commented, grateful that the attention wasn’t on him. He’d hate for Prompto to see his smile.

How long had it been since Ignis had a reason to smile, he didn’t know. It was impossible for him to shut his mind off completely, but he decided right then, in that moment, that he would allow himself this one evening to pretend that things were going to be okay.

Gladio just snorted and muttered something that sounded like ’wuss’. If millipede noodles really did exist, he believed Prompto should have at least agreed to try them for no other reason than to look less of a chicken.

“Ugh, fine. If you absolutely insist…” Prompto eventually gave in, just as Ignis decided the poor boy had been tormented enough for one day. Forced to call a woman and ask for help, teased relentlessly by the elder two, now threatened with nothing but Cup Noodles for dinner? Ah, poor kid.

“I planned on making something we once had in Lestallum. The mother-and-child rice bowls. You might recall it used to be a favorite of our late friend, and how fitting a meal to honor him as we embark on our quest to return him to us?” Ignis asked as he walked into the kitchen. Without waiting for replies or complaints, he began gathering ingredients.

While Ignis was cooking, Gladio set the table and would help him find whatever the other was looking for when in a pinch. It happened rarely because Ignis could handle everything well enough in now-his kitchen, but there was little else to do other than tease Prompto or take space. Prompto was better left to bask in the glory of him securing a date with Aranea, not to mention finding an ally for their previously hopeless quest.

The next few hours passed with little excitement. 

Ignis cooked the meal and served it up. They talked and made preliminary plans of which tomb to check first, confirming that they have the key or at least what they hoped was the key. Ignis shared some more of his theories about the missing goddess, including a very convincing argument about why there would be five terrestrial and only one celestial and doesn’t it make more sense, given the number of messengers that have been documented over time.

When they all had their fill and the night carried on, Ignis was the first to retire to his room. It had become a habit of his to write in a journal that he kept tucked under the mattress when not in use. He documented significant events and conversations, and occasionally he even wrote about his personal feelings. The tactician tried to forget how painfully mortal he was sometimes, and being such, he was prone to emotions.

Tonight’s entry included some of these emotions. He documented the overhanging sense of worry and loss of hope he felt as he dared explain his theory to his closest friends. They put up with a lot from him when it came to ideas, but up until now, almost all of his ideas were based in tactics, facts, and tangibles. This was something beyond his usual repertoire, and he just couldn’t help but worry. He hoped a good night’s sleep and copious amounts of coffee in the morning would be enough.

Prompto left Gladio after another fifteen minutes. He retreated to his room and flopped face down on his bed. He, too, had a million thoughts in his mind. Some were true to his outward presentation: girl-crazy, romantic, over the top enthusiastic and hopeful. Others hit at something deeper, his true inner self. Worry and hope mixed together, excitement and fear. He hoped Ignis wouldn’t steer them astray; he never had before.

Sleep came to both of them late into the night. Ignis fell asleep with glasses still on, notebook on his chest, page side down. Prompto hugged his pillow tight, and his dreams were filled with hopes.


	2. The First Tomb

The morning came sooner than any of them wanted it to. An alarm rang at precisely 7 am, waking Ignis and setting him on his daily routine. When the others woke up closer to 8, breakfast would be ready field provisions for four prepared, and Ignis would be putting the finishing touches on his messenger bag filled with the plans and necessary curatives. 

“Mornin’!” a chipper Prompto cried as he slid on the floor in his socks, a backpack in one hand and his boots in the other.

“Good morning,” Ignis replied, glancing up for just a moment before returning back to finalizations.

While Ignis had been preparing food and Prompto mostly himself mentally, Gladio had packed their camping gear in the car and dug up the last few magic flasks Noct had made. Both were ‘in case’... if they had to stay overnight and if they ran into something impervious to traditional weapons.

The Regalia had taken a beating in Gralea, and had it been any other car, the boys would’ve left it there. But it held sentimental value to all of them, so Aranea had agreed to take it aboard her dropship. Then it was left in Lestallum for the longest time, they hadn’t had the parts to repair it during the Long Night or a good reason to with other more pressing issues.

Since then, Cindy had pulled off miracles to fix it up as a special treat from her. Now the Regalia looked more like they remembered it, even if they had never had the chance to show it to Noct.

“Sup,” Gladio said when he joined the others at the table. He seemed the same as always. “Your girlfriend’s not here?”

He must’ve realized it was early, but not so much that he couldn’t tease the younger blond.

“She is not my girlfriend,” Prompto replied, but even his protest was lacking its usual fervor. He, too, knew it was early. Would Aranea even be willing to ride in their car, knowing Prompto would be driving? He had gotten a lot better, no more narrow misses with other cars, animals, or demons. He even reined in his desire for every single ideal photo stop!

Ignis ignored their bickering and turned to Gladio. “Eat up, my friend. Then we should pack the car. Either we drive or our fair lady of the blade might permit us to board the Regalia on her aircraft. I would rather leave as little to chance as we could.”

Driving was likely the easier part of the journey even if it included hauling out of the way whatever had fallen on the route. Though some smaller roads might have been in a poor condition, most of the tombs were on mountaintops and other places equally remote.

By the time they finished both the breakfast and making last-minute preparations, they were greeted by the familiar hum of magitek engines. One of the last working Imperial airships landed smoothly on the courtyard, and a dark-clad woman stepped out. Her face was for once not obscured by a helmet, and she gave all three of them a wry smile. “Hey boys. No change in plans then?” 

Aranea seemed to be on her own, likely having left the rest in the capable hands of her two favorite brothers-in-arms. For her credit, she looked awake despite having had her beauty rest cut short to look after these three boys. But such was the power of coffee.

“Aranea!” Prompto called, bounding over. He had his camera in one hand and instinctively went to try and snap a picture with her… pausing just moments before coming to her side to pose. He thought better of it and lowered the camera slowly, a sheepish smile on his face.

“You still take photos?” she asked with a soft huff of a laugh. Years might’ve passed, but these boys were still the same as Aranea remembered them. She could see the other two hang back. It confirmed the idea she had that Prompto had been put up to it.

“No changes. We were thinking of driving for old time’s sake. It’s not super far from here, anyway… if you want to join us?” He glanced back at Gladio and Ignis, who were standing together, half-paying attention to their little son. Ignis was, of course, a very proud Momma Chocobo right now. “O-or if you wanna fly, I can show you on the map which one we’re going to… Either way, it’s all good!”

While Prompto continued explaining their plans to Aranea, Ignis just smiled to himself, looking over. If she didn’t want to ride with them, they’d have to unpack the bags or move the car aboard the magitek engine. Another logistics nightmare. He thought, with growing pride, that he might even surrender the shotgun seat if Aranea didn’t mind playing navigator.

Aranea seemed open to the idea of taking the car, though.

“Sure. It’ll break the monotony up for me, even if it’s no snow bike,” she said, giving a small acknowledging nod to the rest of the royal retinue. “But while on the road, won’t you tell me why you boys are raiding tombs again? Weren’t you already done with all of them?”

“Ah, snow bikes. I remember that. Not fondly, but I remember,” Prompto commented as he trotted to the car and jumped in the front seat. He waited a moment before getting struck with an idea. He jumped back out of the car and scrambled around to the other side, opening the door with a cheesy, over-exaggerated bow to Aranea.

With her cheeks reddening and feeling both pampered and embarrassed, Aranea strolled over to the car and climbed in as ushered. Of course she’d have people bow to her before, but this time it was something she had brought upon herself.

“Did those two hours already start?” she asked humorously by the time Prompto had made it back to the driver’s seat and her cheeks had regained their usual coloring. She had her own bag of supplies with her as the Dragoon had no clue how much time the boys wanted to take with their tiny road trip, and she set that and her helmet down next to her feet. Her lance came to rest rather awkwardly somewhere between her seat and the doors.

And to his credit, Prompto did little more than blush at her comment about the two hours. He hadn’t told his friends every detail of his so-called date, and he really hoped he didn’t have to do so now. That said, it didn’t look like she was about to hold an intervention for him yet–at best, she only monitored the situation.

Still, thank the gods for Ignis.

The older blond managed to hide his amusement at Prompto’s antics and folded his lank frame in the backseat behind the one offered to the lady. “During our initial visits, we found extra doors that were locked. At the time, we did not have the key. We didn’t even know of the existence of the key. Now we do… and we want to know what’s been hidden right in front of our eyes.”

“That’s begging the question why,” Aranea said, looking over her shoulder and past the headrest. She chose not to mention that much closer things could easily be hidden from Ignis’ current set of eyes. “I could be in it for the money, but aren’t you boys on the royal payroll? Or what’s your new government? What is it for you in old ruins?”

While a lucky treasure hunter could score big with Solheim relics, the most common import was dust and a headache.

Ignis choosing a different seat meant Gladio being delegated to Noctis’ usual spot, but instead of saying anything about it, Gladio simply got in. The chances were one of them three had to watch that Prompto, in turn, kept his eyes on the road, but he had brought a book nonetheless.

Ignis could hear the implications and had steeled himself for the inevitable comment about his failing vision. It was one of the few things the boys claimed as off-limits in their new constant roasting of each other.

He hesitated before answering her question. Prompto was smitten, that much was obvious, and she had been quite helpful in some situations over the years. He supposed that made her worthy of trusting.

“I believe that there are deities that have been forgotten. Patterns left unfinished, holes in the tales of ages past. It stands to reason that there may still be a deity devoted to time and space. Or other things of that nature, of course.” He paused, gauging her reaction. “There may still be relics, and if we find them, we can discuss on a case-by-case basis what you could resell. I have no false hope that you are doing this out of the kindness of your heart or as a favor for our devoted driver.”

Feeling the need to add something on top of his previous explanation, which he had hoped would be sufficient, Ignis concluded after a brief moment’s pause and before anyone could add their comments. “But… It is not seeking out a pay day for us. It is a poor, blind man’s last effort to find closure and resolution to the loss of a friend since childhood.”

Finally learning the real reason, her eyes narrowed slightly. While they weren’t devoid of sympathy, the explanation set off a small alarm in the back of Aranea’s mind. Casting a sideways glance to the other two boys, however, she knew from the decided silence that this part was non-negotiable.

“Closure, huh?” she said with a long-held breath, her gaze now firmly set on the road ahead. “I’m sorry for your loss. He seemed like a good kid, nicer than most figureheads I’ve met.”

“It’s been almost a year,” Prompto began, “But it’s just not the same. It was one thing when we thought he was gone, swallowed up by that crystal thing… but we got him back. And lost him again.”

“Indeed,” agreed Ignis. He didn’t expect Gladio to join in on this conversation; the muscular man was one of little expressive emotion beyond angry, grumpy, or sleepy. “This is the only lead in many months. If this doesn’t pan out, then I will surrender my quest.”

A silence fell over both men, tears welling up in the corners of Prompto’s eyes. At the first possible stop sign, he wiped his eyes and reset his face to one he hoped portrayed resilience and not weakness.

“So, which tomb are you boys starting with?” asked Aranea, changing subject.

“The second tomb we ever went to. I cannot for the life of me remember the name of it or which king eternally resides there. But if we can eliminate some temples–Namely ones where we know gods have resided. Titan, specifically–then there are fewer for us to check,” Ignis continued, finally answering her question. “If at any point, Aranea, you decide you want to be done with our fools’ errand, we shall return you to from whence we departed and you shall be rid of us.”

“Thanks, but I cleared my schedule for the next few days,” she said. “And my two best men don’t need me to hold their hands. I’ll think of this as a vacation.”

Then, after a moment’s pause. “I can help you rule out Ravatogh. That’s where the Empire first found Ifrit when I was still a little girl, some thirty years ago.”

Ignis pulled a notebook from his bag and added this to his ever-growing database. “I am pleased that we do not have to tackle that volcano once more. There are a few others I have eliminated as possibilities. If my theory has any validity, even if we fail in our personal goal, it might still bring to light something previously forgotten to time.”

“Iggy wants to leave a mark on the world that marked us up,” Prompto said, surprisingly calm. “Gladio’s along for the ride to keep us out of trouble and keep me from making a fool of myself.”

“You do that well enough on your own, Prompto,” Ignis quipped.

Prompto sighed and didn’t bother replying. The weight of their mission rested on his shoulders, like it did with Ignis and Gladio, and it was the key for him to avoid making an ass out of himself in his peacocking around Aranea. He wasn’t twenty years old anymore, and this wasn’t the local mechanic girl more in love with her cars than anything else. As much as he’d puff up his own feathers and be cheesy, like with opening the car door for her, he knew that by proving himself as competent would do a lot more for his cause.

“We’re almost there, Prompto. Turn that way,” Ignis instructed, leaning in between the two seats and pointing to the right.

“Got it!”

✫✬✭

By the time they had the car parked by the side of the dirt road, Gladio seemed perfectly focused again.

“Feels good to be outside the city for once,” he said, rolling his shoulders a little as any ride in the Regalia got rather cramped for him. 

Prompto jogged the long way around the car to join the others. To everyone’s surprise, he wasn’t shoving his camera in anyone’s face. It wasn’t even in his hands. Sure, he had it with him because he wanted to document anything they might find, but an odd air of seriousness hung over the youngest member of their party.

Ignis made a mental note of it, something to come back to if needed. With little fear and little effect of the disability, he started the short trek down the path to the Keycatrich Trench. He hoped Gladio would stay at his side, ready to jump in at first sign of trouble. So tucked away were the tombs that it was all but certain that daemons still lingered in the side paths.

Aranea was happy to stretch her legs some. While the Regalia might be one of the most luxurious cars she had ever been in, it was no airship where you could always get up and walk around. She picked up her lance and clipped her helmet to her belt, and then she’d follow the rest of them down a dirt road and past old ruins to a cave entrance.

The Empire had liked scavenging Solheim ruins for daemons, so Aranea had seen her fair share of them. She’d just never imagined that a day would come when she’d be scavenging another for proof of a yet-another god, this time for Lucis. But she wasn’t getting paid to antagonize the boys–not anymore, at least–and they must have understood the risks better than most.

The four made their way slowly through the winding paths of the old wartime shelter. The generators had given out a long time ago, perhaps because they had never turned them off again on their first trip, but they had brought flashlights. Surprisingly, a decade had made very little difference in the condition of the tomb, or perhaps the last eleven years of darkness had greatly lowered their expectations of what was almost habitable.

Gladio went first, tailed first by Aranea and then Ignis. Prompto followed Ignis quite a few paces behind, looking around. He kept an eye out for each of his companions as well as for any stray monsters. Fortunately, the creatures around here weren’t the types to attack on sight. He stopped in his tracks, realizing Ignis too had stopped in front of them.

“Iggy?” he asked, trotting up to the opposite side from Gladio.

“Something is in there already. I can sense it. Gladio, would you care to do the honors with the key?” Ignis asked, gesturing to the secondary door just barely visible from where they stood. It was a miracle they had been able to find the key in first place, but some calls to Dave had helped in that regard. Apparently, it was a family heirloom.

Gladio slid the key in, turned it, and the lock made a loud accepting click. The glowing blue runes on the door lit up one after another, and the door cracked open.

No turning back now, Noct would’ve said if he was still with them.

Ignis was the first to pull the door open, using one hand to turn on the light clipped to the front of his jacket. It was enough of a light source to allow him to see the vague shape of... nothing. 

There was absolutely nothing behind the door. Well, nothing that they would need to fight at least. Just on the other side was another large, open chamber. The high walls were etched with fading runes in some ancient language not easily discernible. To the left and the right were paths that led deeper into the darkness, but nothing seemed to be lurking there. At least not yet. They were surely making enough noise for anything that did live behind this sealed passage would be alerted to their presence.

Gladio sighed, keeping an eye on their surroundings as he went first, and Aranea was quick to follow, her spear readied. She had more than enough experience to know that the daylight hours only mattered while out in the sun. Since daemons seemed to grow more powerful with age, she also didn’t trust the purifying powers of the young king’s sacrifice to have reached every underground nook.

Prompto followed last, ensuring the others went in. If anything were to go to hell, he’d have to keep range to be of any real use. Or, so he told himself when he was faced with the crippling anxiety that, when it came to combat or life-and-death situations, he was seriously outclassed even on his best days.

“Whoa,” Prompto said, eyes widening as he saw what was in the next room. His own coat light came on, letting him get a better view. Mesmerized, he went to the left wall and put a hand against it. Just as quickly as he touched it, he jerked his hand back with a yelp. “Ow! What the hell?”

“Didn’t we tell you to not touch anything?” Gladio demanded, turning to look back. He wasn’t even masking the frustration that this was the very first chamber and already Prompto did a thing.

Ignis was with Gladio, peering down one of the passages. “What do you think, Gladio? There is a sense of energy in the air. You feel it, don’t you?”

“Some sense of holy?” the other suggested, giving the whole idea a small shrug. They had been in the presence of gods and their Messengers before, but they couldn’t discern if it belonged to someone or was just pertinent to this place.

Aranea meanwhile went over to where Prompto was, to investigate. She gave his hand a quick look. Realizing she was curious, he felt the need to explain.

“When I touched this wall, it felt like a jolt of electricity,” Prompto said, turning his gaze to Aranea. “It still feels like the tips of my fingers are tingling, like there are sparks jumping around.”

Prompto, not one to learn from his mistakes, reached out and put his hand flat against the wall. This time there was no shock, but a warm current of energy shot up his arm to his shoulder. His eyes widened as he looked at the thin bit of skin showing between the end of his jacket and his gloves. Faint glowing lines painted his skin, following the patterns of his veins. He pulled his hand back and, for the briefest of moments, those yellow lines hung in the air before retracting back into the wall.

Aranea looked concerned; it was not a good look on her, but seemed to come up whenever the royal entourage was involved. Unlike him, she didn’t even try touching the wall, though she did take his hand in hers. Inspecting what she had just seen, but not seeing another trace of that glow.

Much more capable of learning from mistakes and especially those of others, Aranea frowned. “You feeling okay, Blondie?”

Prompto could be cautious, but he also didn’t expect a wall to shock him if he touched it. So, you know. Sometimes you learn. Sometimes you learn but conveniently forget the next time you’re in an applicable situation.

“Yeah. It didn’t hurt the second time… just felt warm. Like after using a fire spell, but not fire? And not electricity, or ice. I didn’t know magic came in more than three flavors,” Prompto rambled on a little bit, both pleased to be talking to, gasp, a girl and also nervous because he could hear Gladio’s grumpy tone a mile away.

“What did he do this time?”

“It seems that the magic in the walls affected him,” Ignis proposed, going off of what little he had pieced together from overhearing the other two talk. “But yes, a sense of holiness. Or magical in nature. Perhaps there is a generator or some other source deeper in these hallowed halls.”

Neither seemed terribly concerned. They had seen too much weird for one lifetime.

“Well, just one way to find out,” Gladio said, picking one of the passages leading farther into the tomb. Or was it even a tomb anymore? Whatever it was, Gladio still paused to wait for the rest of them to catch up.

Ignis nodded to Gladio and gestured. “After you, Gladio,” he said, falling into step just a few paces behind the other when he stumbled over an upturned stone.

He caught himself before landing flat on his face, but Prompto still rushed back to help him regain composure and led him over. Only once they were all securely together did Prompto step aside, lingering closer to Aranea than either of his friends. Proximity was enough for him right now.

As they continued farther and farther, all around the group the air crackled with the charge from the walls. Occasionally, yellow sparks jumped from wall to wall high overheard. None of them would feel sparks and shocks like Prompto initially had, but they still felt that same flash of warmth.

Odd as it was, it was so far good as at least they hadn’t run into any monsters. This place might have been sealed off such a long time ago that the Starscourge hadn’t existed in these parts. Or, on the unfortunate flip-side, whatever lived downstairs was more than capable of dispatching any trespassers.

The passage led down and around and this way and that way: a serpentine path of surprisingly well-maintained stone despite years upon years of likely neglect. 

Gladio kept a leisurely pace, not wanting to put any extra pressure on Ignis. After a good ten minutes, they came across another door, this one of simple make and requiring no key.

Upon reaching it, Gladio first paused to check that Prompto especially was still with Ignis and him. Then, he reached out and gave the door a tentative try. Push or pull, it didn’t budge. 

“So, what now?” Aranea asked, looking around to see if anything stood out.

Before Ignis could say or do much of anything, Prompto stepped forward. He folded his arms across his chest and canted his head to the side. He was looking at the runes which, really, made no sense to him. Until... what was that? A few of the runes started shifting, changing shape to be something a little more understandable.

“Kings of Old, thy ring returned… Tread these halls, our secrets learned…” he read, brows furrowed in confusion.

Ignis shared the look of confusion, as he hadn’t been able to figure anything out. It seemed to fit the aesthetic and historical relevance of this place, the rhyming couplet. And of course! He should have thought of that sooner. The ring was the key for so many things. When brute strength didn’t work on the door, perhaps the solution was the non-traditional key Gladio was holding onto.

“Gladio,” Ignis called out to his friend. “The ring. Can you hold it to the door?”

Gladio eyed Prompto like the other had just grown a second, much smarter head, but still managed to hear Ignis’ suggestion. He dug into another one of his pockets and pulled out the infamous Ring of the Lucii wrought in obsidian and golden metal. It had used to hold the crystal housing the souls of dead kings. Too unstable to tuck away in a storage somewhere and too dangerous to be worn by anyone who wasn’t in dire straits, it had ended up in his hands sometime after the funeral.

He couldn’t remember anymore whose it had been to fix it back together after it had snapped in three, but it was merely the metalwork; the crystal itself had shattered into hundreds of pieces and was beyond salvaging. Better that way.

Holding the ring firmly between his forefinger and thumb, he lifted it closer to the runes–and to the surprise of everyone involved, they shifted. So, with his free hand, Gladio gave the door another push, and this time it swung open without sound.

Past the door, the passage opened into a large circular room. On the far side were ceiling-high bookshelves made of wood, some rotting and falling apart, others still in near perfect condition. Books of all shapes and sizes were scattered among the shelves. None of the shelves were full. This place had been ransacked long before this awkward quartet was even born.

In the center of the room sat a long wooden desk with six chairs surrounding it, three on either side. These, too, looked fairly well-maintained. Faint traces of the engravings were still visible through the layers of dust. This was a veritable paradise for Ignis, who was already walking toward the shelves. There were no traps, nothing but dust and books.

Ignis went to the shelves and started looking them over, grabbing a couple choice ones and going to the desk. He skimmed them the best he could in the dim light. It wasn’t very productive, but enough for him to piece together a few things.

Prompto lingered near Aranea, not quite interested enough in the dusty old tomes to warrant going much further in. “What’re you finding, Iggy?”

Ignis didn’t reply, now with multiple books open and his personal light on its brightest setting.

Aranea had one hand on her hip, inspecting the tall rows of books and scrolls. Were Aranea to look close enough, she would find small pouches of old coins, trinkets, and precious gems placed in various spots on the shelves. 

Ignis, too, had found one of these, took a couple seconds to investigate it, then set it aside. It might take a while for the boys to assess what they wanted to keep, and what she could potentially sell. She could already see all of it being carried off to Insomnia, to be read once and then placed lovingly on a shelf to never be opened again.

While Ignis read, Prompto would help keep the center of the desk clear so the other could do what he did best. The books no longer being looked at were stacked in piles, as the ever-dutiful Prompto brought new ones over. Gladio and Aranea were taking inventory of anything else of note, though it was all trinkets at best.

“That’s it!” Ignis exclaimed after fifteen minutes of reading and skimming. “This volume details a complete pantheon. Six terrestrial deities. We encountered but six of them during our time with Noct. Prompto, Gladio. Help me retrieve these books. Aranea, would you be so kind as to collect the small bags? I believe there may be some goods of value that would be of interest to both of us.”

It took a few runs back and forth between the hidden library and their car just to get all the books that Ignis wanted, but eventually they managed. At least they wouldn’t need to worry about someone else coming to ransack the place. It would take a while to go through everything that they had found, so their best bet was heading back to Insomnia.

Back at the Citadel, Gladio summoned a couple Crownsguards to help them haul all the books upstairs. With that done, he left to go back to his own responsibilities, though he was likely to check up on Ignis before turning in for the night… if not for any other reason to make sure Ignis, too, remembered to sleep.

Once the books were in the study that Ignis favored, he requested a good dozen cans of his favorite coffee. How it managed to survive the end of the world and still be in production to fuel the poor man tasked with many ancient texts was unknown, but he was grateful for the divine intervention. 

Then he bid farewell to Aranea and Prompto before locking himself in.


End file.
